Trust No One
by degrassiislovely
Summary: Can the biggest mistake of your life also be the best? "The headlights of a car moved closer and closer. I could hear the screeching of tires against blacktop. Soon enough, everything was black."


Fun Fact #1467: Shooting a gun causes the same chemical reactions in the brain as a passionate kiss.

I held the gun up. I wasn't sure if I was addicted to killing or the feeling of killing. It wasn't like I was harming the world. I was ridding the world of useless scumbags. The "men" in the world who do useless things and endanger the good people in the world. It took me a while to hunt this one down, but I finally got him.

I held the gun up, sweat dripping from my forehead. The sound was deafening, but I was used to it now. Bang.

Another one dead.

I ran.

I ran across the street, not caring enough to look both ways.

Biggest mistake of my life.

Or the best, but I'll get to that later.

The headlights of a car moved closer and closer. I could hear the screeching of tires against blacktop. Soon enough, everything was black.

Everything was black.

Everything was white.

I opened my eyes and everything was white.

Where's my gun?

I jolted up in bed, frantic. Did they catch me? Am I dead? Obviously not. Stupid question. Unless hell was the inside of a hospital. Soon my hearing came back to me and the voices of doctors, nurses, and other patients reached my ears. Beeping. The sound of telephones ringing in the distance. The sound of running. Wheels of rolling beds moving past my door.

I looked up, expecting to see a family member or friend until I realized I didn't have any. I was alone in the world, but not in the room.

There was a girl.

Sitting.

Sleeping.

I wanted to stand up and examine her, but a nurse came in and examined me instead.

I wanted to speak, but I couldn't find my voice.

"Go-" my voice caught in my through. I cleared my throat, letting out a few unfiltered coughs and tried again.

"What's going on?" I said, simply testing out my voice, but curious as to what the hell the answer would be.

"You were hit by a car. You suffered from some internal bleeding and some broken bones, but we got to you in time. You were lucky."

I was lucky.

I was lucky?

"I'll be back to check up on you later. If you need answers about what happened, I can't help you, but I think that young lady over there can." The nurse pointed to the sleeping figure. I raised an eyebrow as the nurse walked out the door.

Who was she? Not the nurse, the girl sleeping in the chair. Who was she and what was she doing here? Was she the one that hit me?

Where's my gun?

I looked around the room frantically, patting around my bed, even though I knew that it wouldn't be there.

Maybe they disposed of it.

Do they know?

I looked up and stared directly at the girl, and almost immediately, the girl shifted in her chair. It was as if she knew that I was staring without actually seeing me. She was aware of my eyes on her.

Her eyes slowly opened and her head turned to look at me.

Blue.

All I could see was blue.

Her blue eyes were...

were...

were looking back at me.

"Who are you," I said immediately, needing answers. I didn't care who she was, I only needed to know why she was here.

The girl sat up straight and smiled politely.

"I see you're finally up." Her voice was innocent, but contained an edge of mystery at the same time. It was as if she knew she had the upper hand by knowing things that I couldn't possibly know.

I wasted no time. "Who are you?" I repeated.

"Clare. Clare Edwards. I'm so sorry I hit you.."

An apology. Big whoop. That's not what I needed to hear, however. What I needed to hear was why she was here.

"You-" I cleared my throat again, "You were the one that hit me?"

"Yes, again, I'm really sorry about that." Clare stood up in her chair, wanting to move closer, but hesitant about it. She was right to be hesitant.

"Where's my...stuff?" I asked, mostly speaking of my gun.

"The hospital has your clothes.."

"Not the goddamn clothes. I don't care about my clothes. Where's my gun?" At this point I didn't care who she was. I just wanted my stuff back.

"I...er...I tossed it..." she seemed rather peculiar as she said this-almost unbelievable-but it's not like I had any recollection of what happened, or any other eye-witnesses that I knew of.

"Throwing away the evidence of a crime kind of makes you involved now." I smirked. Bet she didn't know that I committed a crime. Stupid girl. I should have been angrier than this. I should have been furious. She threw my gun away.

My gun.

After Julia, my gun was the only thing I had left in the world. Literally. I had no money and no family. All I had was my gun and a desire for revenge. So I used it. I used it to take the same guys who took my Julia.

"Hitting you with my car kind of makes me a little involved anyway."

I simply rolled my eyes, wanting so much to get out of this bed and back onto the road. "So is that all you wanted? Did you just want to stay here this whole time so you could apologize?"

"Well, that's part of it...I just felt terrible for hitting you.." There was a bitter sarcasm in her tone, so I couldn't tell if she was being serious or not.

"Whatever.." I muttered, as I examined the tubes that were connected to my body. "How do I get out of this shit.." I said, mostly to myself.

"Hey!" the girl-Clare exclaimed, standing her ground for the first time that night. "I apologized and I stayed in this hospital for days, waiting for you to wake up, just so I could do it. You should be grateful I'm even here. If I wasn't, you wouldn't even know what happened that night." As she said this she walked closer and closer to my bed, taking a step towards me with each sentence. The blue in her eyes got closer as well. I could almost see what she really looked like. I focused hard on her face, my head still a little fuzzy from the crash.

"I already know what happened, you hit me with your car."

Clare stopped right in front of my bed, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "Is that all you think happened? You're not even the least bit skeptical?" A small chuckle came from Clare, "Wow.. I expected more," she said as if in awe of my own stupidity. I wasn't sure what she was onto, but now I had to find out.

"What are you trying to say?"

"I didn't just toss your gun because I felt like it," she smirked again. "More happened that night than you know. Now do you want to know about it or not?"

At this point, I was more confused than I would ever be in my life. She must have hit me with her car really hard because I couldn't think to save my life, and at the moment, I couldn't even speak.

"I can tell you everything you need to know, but you need to stop being an ass. Alright? Now I apologized, so the polite response would be 'I forgive you.'"

It was as if this girl put away the innocent act and grew a backbone, but it was all just an act from the beginning. She knew exactly what she was doing.

"Alright, I forgive you then. Now tell me what I need to know."

"You know what kind of business you're in. You really think it's safe to talk about it here?" I simply stared at her-we both knew the answer to that. "Here's my number. Call me when you get out of here. Then we'll talk."

I wasn't sure whether to believe her or not, but all the signs pointed to yes. Believing her was easy. Trusting her was difficult.

Clare moved close to my face and I could feel her warm breath against my lips, "If anybody asks, I wasn't here." Clare leaned forward and placed a feather light kiss on my cheek.

I hadn't been kissed at all since Julia, so the sensation burned a hole in my chest.

I shut my eyes once Clare left the room. I needed to rest just a little bit longer.


End file.
